Reminiscing
by Bardic Knowledge
Summary: Before Pitch Black set his scheme in motion, he visited an old friend.


Reminscing

By Bardic Knowledge

Castle Dracula was a dark and dreary place on the best of days. Even a clear and sunny sky couldn't make it feel like a happy place.

Now, it should be explained that this Castle Dracula is not the one in Transylvania. Or at least, it isn't anymore. It is, however, home to what is commonly accepted as the first vampire, however recent his legend may have arisen (Bram Stoker's book was only a hundred years old, after all).

Dracula, whose shape changed as he wished (usually to keep up with the times) was in his study, feverishly writing down ideas. He may not be one of the Guardians, but even he had a holiday to look after, in the form of Halloween. As such, he was constantly researching the subject of fear and horror, and how people enjoyed themselves with it. The main thing he loved of his domain, was the imagination people would put into the festivities.

There were the occasional uninspired folk, but some truly shined. Which is why he was watching something on TV that, technically speaking, wasn't even out yet. But it was set to release in a few months. Just one of the perks of being an anthropomorphic personification of imagination.

"Ah," Dracula sighed, leaning back in his ridiculously tall wing-backed chair. "If only 'Summerveen' vere real. To haff a celebration twice a year instead of vonce!"

"What about celebrating all year round?" echoed a voice in his chamber. Dracula paused. The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn't one of his monsters. "Oh come now, you can't have forgotten me already? All the fun times we had?" Movement in the shadows of his study triggered a memory in Dracula's head.

"Pitch? Pitch Black, is zat you?" Dracula laughed and hopped out of his chair as the infamous Boogeyman stepped into the pale moon's light. "It _is_ you! Ha ha! I haff not seen you in, vhat, two centuries?"

Pitch, tall, dark and pale, facepalmed lightly. "Oh, please drop that ridiculous accent. I'm here on business."

"Business? Vhatefer-" At Pitch's pointed look, Dracula rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever could you mean?" Dracula then muttered under his breath, "I like that accent, it's funny."

"I'm talking about going back to the glory days. Do you remember how much fun we had all those centuries ago? All the creepy crawlies you thought up and I shaped in the dark?"

"It was fun at times, yes, but I still don't see what you're getting at?"

"You were just talking about the joy of fear. How much you wished you could celebrate Halloween more than just once. We could make it like Halloween forever, you and I."

"I don't think you get it, Pitch."

That brought The Boogeyman to a halt. His smirk froze as he blinked. "What?"

"Halloween isn't about fear. It's about imagination!" Dracula picked up his remote control and pushed a series of buttons. Across the room, the bookshelves slid aside to reveal televisions in addition to the one he had been watching earlier. Each one showed a different Halloween of years gone past. "You see all these? Every one of them thought of what they wanted to dress up as, or thought up new ways to have fun, or even just what they wanted to decorate their house like!

"It's my absolute favourite thing about humanity: their ability to imagine and create! For all that I'm capable of imagining things, I'm still nothing compared to them." Dracula started laughing. "You- you remember when we got the werewolf legend started? Just some howls before sunrise and after moonrise and they were conjuring shapechangers!"

"And their fear kept them from straying too far from their village in the dark where real predators could get at them." Pitch's smirk became a smile once again. "What do you say, Vlad? Ready to put the fear in them again?"

Dracula's smile faded. "I was never in it for fear, Pitch, you know that. I was trying to protect people. I admit, I wasn't the best at it, even when mortal, but-"

Pitch snarled. "I should have known you wouldn't understand! I _am_ fear! And people are getting less afraid by the year! If-if this continues-!"

"Their fears still exist!" bellowed Dracula in return, his shape changed into a large black demonic-looking beast. "They conjure things in the dark! They're scared of each other! Some even develop a fear of certain _numbers_ for Moon's sake!"

"But they do not fear ME!" roared Pitch in return, the shadows of the room became starker as the televisions blinked out, one-by-one. "I am THE BOOGYMAN! I am supposed to inspire terror that keeps people from committing evil! But they barely acknowledge my legend, let alone my existence!"

"What would you have them do? Return to the Dark Ages, where their creativity is stifled by their quaking _terror_?!"

"YES!"

Silence rang out in the study, the full moon the only source of light remaining. The large black shape of Dracula shrunk, returning to his cape-and-tuxedo vampire form. "Pitch... You can't-"

"Can't what?" spat Pitch. "Can't take back my position? I was their protector long before those insipid _Guardians_ , and I will be again. They will learn to fear me and be good. Or-"

"Or you'll destroy them?" Dracula whispered. "You'd really fall that far?"

"What choice do I have?"

"Accept that they have grown. That they're stronger than before _because_ of you, not to spite you."

"They barely even know of me. I won't even be a memory. I will not accept that. I refuse."

Dracula sighed. "Then you leave me no choice. I may not be a Guardian, Pitch Black, but I can still-"

"Stop me? Did you really think I was going to show up here without a plan if you did this?" Pitch snapped his fingers, and wave of darkness filled the window, covering up the moon. "I'm truly sorry to do this, old friend, but you leave me no choice."

Laughter rang out of the darkness, but it wasn't Pitch's. "Did you really think a little darkness would stop me?" And with a flash of brilliant light, Dracula's new form lit up the room. "Got this guy from that show I was watching when you came in." A single eye on luminous yellow narrowed at the empty room. "Pitch?"

"Sorry I can't stay," Pitch's voice echoed, "but I've got some fear to spread. Enjoy rotting in your castle, traitor."

It was then that Dracula, known in life as Vlad "the Impaler" Tepes III Dracula, realized what his old ally had done. The shadows hadn't just covered up the moon. He'd been sealed away. The whole of Castle Dracula buried in Absolute Darkness and cut off from the world.

He could only hope the Guardians would stop Pitch.


End file.
